


SUPERCOLD.

by CrazyM



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), SUPERHOT (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Crack, Devotion, F/M, Hunger Games References, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm Not Ashamed, Implied Widowtracer, Matrix references, Mind Rape, Mindfuck, Pre-Canon, Pre-Recall, Pre-Talon Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Reconditioning, because why not?, everything is, extreme mind control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-04-16 17:28:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14169903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyM/pseuds/CrazyM
Summary: CONDITIONING STATUS: SUPERHOT PROTOCOL COMPLETE.But its not elation that fills their weary bodies. Its fear, the dread of the laughter that filled the room earlier. They slowly turn to each other. Both of them know what it was. Bloodlust, a thirst for killing, an unsatiable hunger for life. When they realise what they have made of the woman, the one that taught ballet, loved kids, baked well and was a human before all else.It crashes against them like the waves of a tsunami. They have made something out of someone."We have created a weapon." Bald says."No, we have created a monster." The brunette croaks.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The song is 'The hanging tree' from the Hunger Games Trilogy. Listen to it and watch yourself creep the fuck out.

This isn't normal reconditioning.

Nothing could prepare Amelie for this. Nothing could.

Amelie flails with all her might, trying her absolute best to break out of their grips, the two unnamed men, grabbing her by the arms, any identifiable facial feature obscured by a faceless mask. Her sundress is soiled and torn at places, the one she had picked out for Gerard, when they would go to their weekly night out. She was right outside their apartment, coming back from ballet, her purse clutched in her hands, the well practised poise of a professional ballet performer in her walk, all soft curves and smooth, toned, supple skin under the flowy, midnight-blue sundress. All softness, liveliness and hopefulness, maybe even a smidgen of worldly fear in her mascara-adorned amber eyes, the ones which Gerard could lose himself in for hours at a stretch, prompting Amelie to push him off in a crescendo of laughter.

But she never saw the vehicle pulling some distance behind her.

She never saw the gloved hand curling around her mouth.

She never saw another arm hooking around her torso.

And definitely never saw the blind descending over her eyes.

The next two hours were a feral, blind scramble. Amelie felt nothing except movement and restriction. Her ankles were tied together, her arms tied by the wrists behind her back. Her tears were hot and wet on her face, trailing sideways down her cheek because she was on her side, and moving around at the back of what could only be a hover truck. She was holding it together till now because she couldn't let them see her weak and vulnerable, but as the travel drew out for longer, the time chipped away at her composure, and eventually she cracked and the tears flowed, the helplessness of it all hitting her full force.

"Gerard..." was the only thing she could speak, calling futilely upon her vastly stronger, capable and well-armed husband, but he would never listen. She knew it, but it never hurt to hope anyway.

It didn't hurt like the way the rope did, cutting into her soft skin. It didn't hurt like the fact like she probably would never see Gerard again, feel his skin on hers, feel the tantalizing tickle of his breath on the nape of her neck, the sound of her name on his tongue. The feeling when he proposed her. The way her heart did a little flip whenever he returned from his missions. The way she shivered when his hands roamed her skin in worship. The way their hearts beat as one. The endless words of affection and devotion said between sheets like a prayer only they knew.

"Gerard..." She whispered again, coiling into herself, curling into a fetal position, sobs overtaking her body and she stayed that way, sobbing.

Until the arms returned and grabbed her. One looped around her torso and she felt herself being hoisted roughly. A sharp force hit her on the belly, probably a shoulder and Amelie coughed, no will left in her body. She knew she couldn't escape. She knew she was lost to the world. Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. She felt herself sway slightly with each change of direction.

Then a door opened.

And then she was slammed into a chair.

And then the blind was removed.

Amelie blinked hard. The overhead lights blinded her after close to two hours of darkness. Her mascara was smudged over her face and her breathing was heavy. Her chest rose and fell quickly. Her vision adjusted and then she saw what she didn't want to see in her life.

Akande Ogundimu. The head of Talon. In the flesh.

"Prepare her." Were his only words, and he walked away, disappearing into the darkness that was spread across the room, save for the blinding overhead lights fixed to the chair she was sitting in. Then realisation occured.

Gerard was dead, and Talon had kidnapped her to finish the job.

It was time. 

She started singing as the straps came down on her wrists and she was relieved of her clothing. She closed her eyes.

_Are you, are you_  
_Coming to the tree_  
_Where they strung up a man_  
_They say who murdered three_  
_Strange things did happen here_  
_No stranger would it be_  
_If we met up at midnight_  
_In the hanging tree_

The scientists twitched. The grunts twitched, and the rest twitched. Her voice was low and solemn. Accepting but defiant.  
  
_Are you, are you_  
_Coming to the tree_  
_Where the dead man called out_  
_For his love to flee_  
_Strange things did happen here_  
_No stranger would it be_  
_If we met up at midnight_  
_In the hanging tree_

This was hers and Gerard's agreement for them to accept death like this when they fall to enemy forces. Amelie married him despite the danger because she couldn't live without the man. This song was their announcement to their doom, come at it with whatever it can. It struck fear into the hearts of those wishing to kill and inspired power in their hearts. The door opened noiselessly and a grunt appeared with a device with long metal legs and a small device at its center with a trio of spikes emerging from it, like a spider and its fangs.  
  
_Are you, are you_  
_Coming to the tree_  
_Where I told you to run_  
_So we'd both be free_  
_Strange things did happen here_  
_No stranger would it be_  
_If we met up at mid_  
_Night in the hanging tree_

She swayed side to side in place, eyes shut tight, face now filled with ease and devotion. The scientists gingerly touched her, afraid of her suddenly, even when they were aware of the fact that fifty bullets would hit Amelie if she tried to resist. And she didn't resist, swaying with ease, not even pulling against her restraints.

That is what scared them more. The part where she didn't resist one bit.  
  
_Are you, are you_  
_Coming to the tree_  
_For a necklace of hope_  
_Side by side with me_  
_Strange things did happen here_  
_No stranger would it be_  
_If we met up at mid_  
_Night in the hanging tree?_

The scientists placed the device at her back, the device aligned with her spine.  
  
_Are you, are you_  
_Coming to the tree?_  
_Where I told you to run_  
_So we'd both be free_  
_Strange things did happen here_  
_No stranger would it be_  
_If we met at midnight_  
_In the hanging tree_

She continued to sway, paying no heed to the rising tension in the room. Akande continued to watch from the darkness. Every eye flitted atleast once between Amelie and Akande.

"Start sequence" A bald haired, but young scientist said, pointing to the device and his companion, a brunette, put his fingers on the control panel.

"Starting sequence" The brunette replied, looking at the device placed against Amelie's back.  
  
_Are you, are you_  
_Coming to the tree_  
_Where they strung up a man_  
_They say who murdered three_  
_Strange things did happen here_  
_No stranger would it be_  
_If we met up at midnight_  
_In the hanging tree_

Her voice became louder as the legs of the spider melded into her skin. The center was still raised over her spine, the needles touching the skin. Only just. The grunts looked on, their fingers twitching over the triggers. The tension rose. They knew Amelie was completely powerless and helpless but they still couldn't help the chill creeping up their backs.

Akande tapped his leg nervously.   
  
_Are you, are you_  
_Coming to the tree_  
_Where the dead man called out_  
_For his love to flee_  
_Strange things did happen here_  
_No stranger would it be_  
_If we met up at midnight_  
_In the hanging tree_

Amelie refused to stop. Gerard had joined her. They sang together, voices ringing through the room like the song of two birds. It reverberated against the walls, telling the whole wide world that they are still in love, still together and can never be seperated, no matter what they tried. Their vow was, does, and shall hold forever, and neither shall die while the other survives.

And neither shall survive while the other dies.

Amelie's song was now at breaking point, and the tension in the room was solid. She continued to sing with her husband at her side. Her singing voice lower than her speech.

The bald scientist nodded to his brunette counterpart, He was holding onto the device gingerly, afraid that Amelie might kill everyone in the room.

"Engaging the tap." The brunette said, and pressed a button on the panel.

The needles plunged into her spine and Amelie gasped, her entire body going limp instantly. Her beautiful amber eyes remained open, so did her mouth, caught between song and she dropped to the backrest, her head turning upwards limply, eyes still open, unfocused, dilated, unseeing.

Everyone released breaths they did not know they were holding. Akande let out a relieved sigh and walked to the front.

"Do you have this in control now?" He asked uncertainly.

"Yes sir." The bald scientist bowed in Akande's direction. "The tap will make sure of it." He says with newfound confidence, like the device had suddenly proved its worth when it silenced the Frenchwoman.

"Alright then." He said and walked out of the door, and the grunts followed him, leaving them alone in the room. The scientists, who were still terribly afraid of the woman in between them, turned and looked at the big screen that took up the whole wall behind the chair. The brunette located the file on the archaic OS and pressed enter.

"Starting the reconditioning module." The brunette said, shaking a little less now.

_SUPERHOT.EXE_


	2. Heavenly Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie wonders if she has killed three men with no discrimination, but there is zero guilt in her mind.
> 
> She isn't worried.
> 
> She isn't scared.
> 
> She wants to say something, maybe an eulogy, if a man was supposed to reside somewhere inside these crystals, but she stays quiet, partly because she doesn't know if she can, and partly because there isn't anything to say. It somehow makes things easier.

This has to be heaven.

It cannot be anything else.

Everything is white, burning through her closed eyelids. The floor under her feet is neither warm nor cold, just a solid lifelessness, there just to fulfill a purpose, something meant to be forgotten. She remembers the manner of her death- quick. Atleast her enemies showed her mercy. She then notices she cannot feel anything, just being there. The only thing she can feel is her right hand holding something in a way only terrible, life-taking things are held.

She decides to open her eyes.

And right there in front of her is a- crystal? A red crystal shaped like a man broke as a black crystal, that was her gun, shot him. The man shattered as the projectile hit, and she heard the wrong, distorted sound of glass shattering, like the world had suddenly been plunged into solidifying amber. A slow, drawn out crash.

The red crystal of a man separated into a million shining rubies, tumbling slowly, alluringly in the air, and Amelie is suddenly overwhelmed with desire, to catch one of the pieces, to hold it, to admire it. She reaches out and the pace quickens, the crystals suddenly being favored by gravity. She hesitates and the crystals slow again. Amelie reaches out once again and the crystals clatter to the ground, white, perfect and continuous, like an obsession. Like everything else except her and the crystals.

She then notices her hand and the crystalline nature of it. She is a crystal too, but a beautiful jet black, completely opaque, unlike the red crystal before her, with a hint of transparency.

She moves a little and time moves like normal again. She stops and time goes back to a crawl.

Then she realises.

*

"She has figured out the rules." The bald scientist announced. The brunette raised his head from the control panel and joined his companion in viewing the screen.

"The system is aware of the presence." The brunette said, softly. Like the statement was an open secret. The bald one registers it, but does not acknowledge.

"Well, we can only wait and watch now." He says in the end, folding his arms tight over his chest, bracing for the long time he is going to spend sitting.

The brunette leaves to get them a coffee.

*

Amelie touches the red shard and she cannot feel anything, her fingers crystal, the red touching her fingers also crystal. She notices that the hallway turns to the left and she peers over the edge. She ducks back in almost immediately, to avoid a black bullet whizzing where her head had been a moment ago, leaving a red trail behind, like an infinitesimal comet. Amelie stands too hard and stops suddenly. The headrush is only fleeting, but it helps that time is back to a crawl. She dashes across the hallway and stops, seeing the bullet sail towards where she had been previously.

The bullet shatters against the corner of the wall. Amelie does what anyone in her place would do.

She raises her gun and fires. Her bullet traveling as slow as the enemy's. All she can do is watch and watch she does, as the bullet finds its target after an eternity, shattering the enemy on impact. There is a glow emanating from the far side of the hallway, on the right. She notices another figure emerging from the said location, clear as day from the light of the windows.

The light is white, so are the windows. So is the scenery behind them, an endless sea of white.

It helps, quite a lot.

Amelie presses the trigger and there is no bullet. Something rings through her mind, not a voice, but not silence either, something like a rock dropped in the middle of the sea. There, but no idea why.

_ITS OUT_

She does the next most logical thing. She flings the gun with all her might at the crystal in front of her and it connects, leaving the figure stunned. In mere split seconds, she is within melee range, and she grabs the gun out of the crystal's hands, fumbling, but time is stopped, so she can fumble all she likes. She chooses not to, and grabs it like she has been doing this before, for ages.

She aims at the head, and lets the gun loose. The head explodes in a distorted shower of rubies, and she is hit with a massive sense of satisfaction as the enemy falls, crumbling, feeble, fallible, vulnerable.

And then the words ring through her mind again, not feeling like anything, just there.

_SUPER. HOT. SUPER. HOT. SUPER. HOT. SUPER. HOT._

*

"She's survived." The Brunette says, looking over his coffee.

"Activate the reward mechanism." Bald says.

The brunette presses a button, and then looks at the screen.

*

Amelie is suddenly overwhelmed with sensation, her skin back, her feelings back. She realises she is naked, but it ceases to matter anymore. There is no one to see, and no one to exploit her. She looks at the shower of rubies at her feet and touches the crystal. It feels good.

It feels _right_.

But then she notices her skin is back to being a crystal and she wonders. Were these men too? Before she reduced them to a sum of their parts? A fraction? But there was no blood, no screaming, just a silent shatter in the sea of white, a wisp of smoke in solid air. A wordless acquiesence.

Amelie wonders if she has killed three men with no discrimination, but there is zero guilt in her mind.

She isn't worried.

She isn't scared.

She wants to say something, maybe an eulogy, if a man was supposed to reside somewhere inside these crystals, but she stays quiet, partly because she doesn't know if she can, and partly because there isn't anything _to say_. It somehow makes things easier.

But this feels...odd. Unlike herself, the polished, peace-loving wife of a military man. She had no qualms to do it, but it feels just out of place, doing this. She thinks-

It doesn't matter what she thinks, because she is plunged into darkness again.


	3. System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh. As for your answer, the programming is volatile. It will require frequent wipes to retain. The longer Amelie Lacroix is kept without a wipe, the more free will she will gain." The Brunette said, glancing over her bare white skin and then back at the screen.
> 
> "Can something break this programming permanently?" Bald asks
> 
> "Yes, if she comes in contact with the agent Lena Oxton. Codename Tracer."

The Brunette straightens on his chair and starts typing rows upon rows of text when the screen stays black for longer than normal. Bald sits bolt upright and looks at The Brunette.

"What happened?" He asked his companion.

"The system has rejected the second attempt." The Brunette said, too busy typing to talk clearly.

"What?" Bald said.

"The system, has rejected the second attempt" The Brunette repeated, gritting his teeth. His eyes remained on the screen and fingers deftly danced from key to key.

"The second attempt?"

"Yes. Each attempt, or mission, if you prefer to call it, reprograms different parts of the mind. The first one is to get her accustomed to the concept of movement and getting her comfortable with the individuals, or the red crystals, being killed by her and the concept of heightened locomotion speeds. This also serves to disable any sense of morality."

"You mean the time she slowed is not time, but her immense speed?"

"Yes. But the concept of speed will be severely reduced in real life, only enough to complement her ballet background."

"What are the individuals then?"

"The individuals are nothing but sentient pieces of code designed to resist stimulus necessary for the reconditioning of the mind."

"Wouldn't killing the same things over and over again hinder progress?"

"It does not, because the device only attempts reprogramming, the individuals are the mind's defense mechanisms against the device. They will be different- some will yield shotguns, some will yield pistols, some will charge with bare fists and some will have melee weapons. Each part is automatically reprogrammed when she kills the individuals in the region."

"So the system will break in the end?"

"If it does, it will kill her too. We will reprogram around the system until it accepts the reconditioning."

"So, in the event of completion, she will be totally in our control?"

"What happens to the device after that?" The brunette asked for the first time. The Brunette handled the reconditioning and Bald handled the physiology.

"The device will fuse into her body and it will look like a tattoo of a spider over her back."

"Oh. As for your answer, the programming is volatile. It will require frequent wipes to retain. The longer she is kept without a wipe, the more free will she will gain." The Brunette said, glancing over her bare white skin and then back at the screen.

"Can something break this programming permanently?" Bald asks

"Yes, if she comes in contact with the agent Lena Oxton. Codename Tracer."

"Can't we just wipe her memory?"

"No. Memory is necessary for the reconditioning to work properly. The activation protocol will be stored in her brain and will be triggered by an external stimulus. It can be anything- a string of words, a particular noise, a particular touch, anything."

"But will the protocol work when the reconditioning deteriorates?"

"Yes, she will remain aware, but not in control. It will be like sitting and watching, but no means to do anything."

"Like paralysis." Bald says it like a door closed on the face.

"Like paralysis." The Brunette agrees.

"But why just Tracer? Why not anyone else?"

"Because the two share a very intimate bond. Just one contact with her will trigger her free will, and make it much harder to recondition her. Gosh, when will you start reading the files?"

Bald huffed dismissively. "I have you."

The Brunette shakes his head.

"Does she know about the system?" Bald restarts the conversation.

"Not yet, but the system will expel her the next time instead of the device and make their presence known, and it will interact with her directly when the programming reaches later stages."

"What is the guarantee that she wouldn't resist the reconditioning herself?"

"The second attempt takes care of that."

Both of them remain silent for some time. Bald sips at his coffee and looks at the rows of letters on the black screen, pixelated insects scampering across the darkness, like black and white turned inside out.

"But what is the system?" Bald asks in the end.

"Her subconscious."

*

Amelie wakes up as soon as she had passed out, minimal time delay in limbo. She looks around and notices she is in a cell. She is facing the bars, white against more white. In the corner beside the bars are some black crystals, same as her. She dashes to the corner and picks up one, which was a bottle. She throws it into the bars and it shatters. 

She then picks up the second piece, which is rounded. She turns the piece in her hand and realizes she is holding a skull. All hard edges and flat faces, its multiple sides glinting from the light that seemed to be coming from around her- like she had been placed inside white neon. It was bright, ambient, but not jarring.

But Amelie couldn't feel anything, so it might as well have been blinding. She looks back at the skull, feeling nothing but an empty gaping blankness.

She shatters the skull against the bars too.

Then the crystals appear again, over her, visible from the bars on the ceiling, the air around them red, like a grotesque firefly. Nothing else except them. Two raised their guns from the opposite sides of the square and fired.

She dodged them, easily, and then the next, and then the one after. It was easy to focus when all there was to see was just one thing- a black bullet whizzing against endless white, a red trail.

She thinks what would it be like to get hit, but she doesn't care to chase after the answer. She doesn't care about anything presently

After some time of dodging bullets, she gets annoyed and wants to end them.

Some time after that, she is genuinely desperate to reduce them to a shower of rubies.

As soon as that enters her mind, the words are back.

_ENOUGH._

Then a small silence, the firing stops and everyone stills, like a punchline waiting to be delivered.

_GOOD DOG._

She cares enough to feel enraged, unlike any other emotion. She is angry, but it is a blank buzz. A fleeting thought, searing through her mind, leaving nothing but an urge behind, a furious static. She does not bother to clench her fist, because it will yield nothing.

All she wants now is those crystals shattered into showers of rubies, over and over again.

And if that is what heaven is supposed to be like, she will take it.

Gladly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This clears the cobwebs on the workings of the device and the reconditioning, also lays the premise for Widowtracer, which will not be what you are expecting
> 
> @ParadoxMage: Story start making sense now?
> 
> BTW: Chapter 4 of my other work will be on soon. Just needs few tweaks ;)


	4. Control.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Her vitals are dropping!" He says, urgent, loud, and launches off the chair in a way that belies his pot belly.
> 
> The Brunette checks his side. There are no discrepancies or anything out of the ordinary.
> 
> "Heart rate 50 BPM and dropping!" Bald says urgently, which The Brunette takes as a call for help. He joins Bald and assists him in whatever he needs. 
> 
> But nothing seems to have an effect.
> 
> "Breathing rate dropping!" He snaps. "Oxygen concentration falling!"
> 
> CH4: Control.

It makes itself known when she has massacred five in a white bar, and the bartender. A strange presence.

Not like anything else before. Just a faint buzz in her head. Different than the words that float through her mind when she finishes a stage.

Then, the presence speaks, the same way as the words.

THEY HAVE CRACKED THE SYSTEM.

She's into darkness before she knows it.

*

"What was that?" Bald straightened on his chair and searched The Brunette's face for an answer.

"That." The Brunette points to the screen. "Is the system."

*

She kills a group, this time in a subway station. But instead of going into darkness immediately after the words SUPER HOT, the presence is back.

THE SYSTEM IS NOT A TOY.

*

This time she is in an elevator with three guns pointed at her head.

They fall, collide, shatter against Amelie's focus.

The doors open, and there are more people, who fall just the same way.

As soon as the last one falls, she is suddenly standing in a cell.

The presence is back.

LET'S HAVE A LITTLE TALK.

_A little talk? Can I talk?_

The presence answers.

YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU ARE DOING.

_No plot, no purpose, just killing red guys._ Amelie replies with a relish, like the sound one makes when water hits the parched throat.

LEAVE.

Amelie is plunged into a different darkness. That one swallowed her whole. That was comforting. Like sleep.

This one is prohibiting, entrapping. A very dark grey. Not black but not far off either.

*

"Re-initiating the tap." The Brunette says and starts typing frantically.

"What happened there?" Bald says, checking the vital signs.

"The system is far more powerful when it is not fighting something external. We keep trying until we convince the system to cooperate."

*

Amelie continues her massacre through an office building this time. She finishes reducing the last crystal to a shower of red sparkle, she is out again, back in the grey.

She is disjointed, disembodied, just a free piece of code floating around in a computer.

The presence returns.

YOU.

WILL.

LEARN.

THE.

HARD.

WAY.

Each word rings through her very existence. 

She is suddenly in a hallway and she knows the way around.

How could she not?

This is the way to her own home.

*

"Oh my god." The Brunette croaked. "This is much worse than I originally thought."

"What?" Bald says. He has a hint but he is almost out of it here.

"That." The Brunette points to the screen, where they are watching though Amelie's eyes. There is an indigo crystal, shaped like a woman, against the endless white. "That is Amelie Lacroix, the one we kidnapped."

"Meaning?"

"That is the last line of defense. That represents the projection of the very soul that Amelie Lacroix has. Every little habit, every quirk. In short, her whole self in that crystal."

Bald looks at the screen much more grimly.

*

SEE IF IT HURTS. 

The presence speaks in her head and she knows what is being ordered to do. She is hesitant, because she knows this is most probably her, because it is mirroring her movements.

But she is dead and the crystal in front of her can be nothing more than a phantasm.

She draws closer and throws an experimental punch.

As soon as it connects, the world is drowned in red.

*

Bald jumps to his feet when the alarms start blaring.

"Her vitals are dropping!" He says, urgent, loud, and launches off the chair in a way that belies his pot belly.

The Brunette checks his side. There are no discrepancies or anything out of the ordinary.

"Heart rate 50 BPM and dropping!" Bald says urgently, which The Brunette takes as a call for help. He joins Bald and assists him in whatever he needs. 

But nothing seems to have an effect.

"Breathing rate dropping!" He snaps. "Oxygen concentration falling!"

There is a cacophony of blaring warnings. The brunette looks around and recognition spreads across his mind.

"I know what this is." he says silently. Bald looks up at him, face contorted in curiosity, eyes wild in urgency.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story is now almost a wrap, and if you guys do get what the end sequence means, well done!
> 
> For those who didn't, there will be an explanation in the next chapter.
> 
> Next update on any fic might be some while, as the end-sems are arriving in roughly two weeks, and I write terribly with sleep deprivation.


	5. Aftermath.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CONDITIONING STATUS: SUPERHOT PROTOCOL COMPLETE.
> 
> But its not elation that fills their weary bodies. Its fear, the dread of the laughter that filled the room earlier. They slowly turn to each other. Both of them know what it was. Bloodlust, a thirst for killing, an unsatiable hunger for life. When they realise what they have made of the woman, the one that taught ballet, loved kids, baked well and was a human before all else.
> 
> It crashes against them like the waves of a tsunami. They have made something out of someone.
> 
> "We have created a weapon." Bald says.
> 
> "No, we have created a monster." The brunette croaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is: The final chapter.

"Is she stable now?" The Brunette asks Bald.

Bald looks at the skin growing blue by the second.

"I honestly have zero idea." Bald replies. "Her heartrate is steady at a 20BPM, the oxygen concentration in the blood should have killed her long ago. The breathing rate has gone down similarly."

The Brunette says nothing, choosing to look at the screen instead.

*

DESIST.

But I just want to kill red men. Feel the rush.

there is another static.

AS YOU WISH.

Amelie dissolves. 

*

This time, when she wakes up, there is a difference in everything. She is much faster than before, time is much more slower and bullets are even slower.

The construction site is blank white, and she can see the man running to her with a katana in his hand.

Suddenly, a message pops in her head, like a grotesque notification.

 _Hotswitch ready_.

Amelie has no idea of what that meant, but she concentrates hard on the incoming threat. She focuses on the incoming crystal of a man and tries to anticipate what his next move will be. Suddenly her consciousness is thrown into his head and she closes her eyes. She opens them a moment later to find that she has the katana and the place where her body was has been replaced by the man. He clutches at his head like trying to hold it together and then suddenly his head disintegrates, and soon the rest of the body follows. 

Then she realizes what hotswitch really is. Switching of bodies.

Katana in her hand, she proceeds to make short work of the remaining men, each of them disintegrating to the might of the woman before them, moving faster than anything.

The last of the enemies falls, and the words fill her mind again.

SUPER. HOT. SUPER. HOT. SUPER. HOT. SUPER. HOT.

*

"She has almost made it through this. Just one thing remains. Amelie Lacroix." The Brunette says, his voice thick with anticipation.

"Meaning?"

"Her free will. What makes her her." The brunette explains. "we will have a clean slate then. Free to be molded into anything talon desires. And I think I know what is going on with her body too." He begins.

Suddenly darkness falls. Every electronic device dies without warning.

"Crap." The Brunette curses and scrambles to get them back up. "We have to get this online or her entire mind will be wiped!"

"Relax. Only the screens are off." A female hispanic voice replies and the two talon scientists freeze. "Tell me what you did to her."

"I don't think I'm at the liberty to-"

"Every thing is dead in this room. Every. Little. Thing." The voice replies and The Brunette can feel her proximity. "Now tell me."

"Her mind, or the system, is trying to save her. If it continued to resist, nothing would be left. So the system is shutting down or slowing things that are not of utmost importance, so that it can focus all resources to manage this situation. The situation of her mind being reconditioned one part at a time. By no one else but Amelie Lacroix herself. As it stands, her mind is operating at its limits, and I think these changes will carry on if she is kept under control."

"So is she completely under your control?"

"No, She has one last part left which will complete the process. Its the core of the system, or her personality. Things that make Amelie Lacroix. Once that is over, she is nothing but an expendable asset. A piece you can switch in to get the job done."

"Where will they use her?"

"I have not been privy to this information."

The voice does not reply, instead everything comes back on again. The brunette checks to make sure everything is as it was. Bald looks at him, sweat glistening on his forehead.

"You sure about this?"

The Brunette says nothing, and types in the instructions to initiate the final part.

*

She awakens to see a massive red pyramid and many men running towards her.

The words ring in her head, like clockwork. Always there with instruction.

TAKE THE SYSTEM.

No need to tell her twice.

The massacre is intense, its maddening in its speed, but Amelie does not mind. She shatters every last crystal with her bare hands, each subsequent kill bringing her higher amounts of elation and satisfaction. The last one falls, and Amelie clutches at his shattered remains, grabbing handfuls of crystal. And then she throws her head back.

And laughs.

Its nothing like what a regular mortal human does. It sounds feral, it sounds alien, and it doesn't sound like a laugh, because it comes out of the speakers like a series of static played on a synthesizer, that somehow sounds like laughter.

Amelie wastes no time to dive into the system. Then she rises over the pyramid and new crystals emerge, each in complete view. She dives at them, like a bullet and they shatter, one at a time. Her laughter grows, and so does the fear in the two scientists.

When the last one shatters, darkness falls again and white letters trace across the black.

CONDITIONING STATUS: SUPERHOT PROTOCOL COMPLETE.

But its not elation that fills their weary bodies. Its fear, the dread of the laughter that filled the room earlier. They slowly turn to each other. Both of them know what it was. Bloodlust, a thirst for killing, an unsatiable hunger for life. When they realise what they have made of the woman, the one that taught ballet, loved kids, baked well and was a human before all else.

It crashes against them like the waves of a tsunami. They have made something out of someone.

"We have created a weapon." Bald says.

"No, we have created a monster." The brunette croaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I kinda forgot about this fic and when I was browsing through my works, I realised I had to complete this.
> 
> It feels kinda good to complete your first multi-chapter fic.

**Author's Note:**

> This might be the first multi-chapter fic that I may actually complete, as I have the whole story thought out and planned.
> 
> Would love to know your thoughts on this. Because this is my first time writing so abstract and short.
> 
> This is good practice. What do you think? Comments and kudos always welcome!


End file.
